Diving into the Dreamy Depths of Capillary Waves by Enisle
Capillary Waves, the 2017 ambient-electronic masterpiece from UK-based artist Enisle, isn’t just an album—it’s more like a sonic daydream you don’t want to wake up from. Released under the mysterious xevowt label, this record is all about textures, moods, and those little moments that make your brain go, “Wait… what was that?” Daryn Brown handled the editing, mixing, and mastering, while Chris Ray crafted the music itself. It's clear these folks weren’t messing around—they knew exactly how to bottle up quiet magic.
The album has nine tracks, but two stood out to me in particular: Moon At Twilight and Parhelion. Let me tell ya why they stuck with me.
Moon At Twilight kicks things off with this kinda floaty vibe—like walking through fog on a beach at night. You know when something feels so peaceful it almost makes you uneasy? That’s this track. The synths are soft, almost whispering, but there’s this faint pulse underneath, like a heartbeat you can’t quite place. Every time I listen, I swear I hear new layers sneaking in. It’s hypnotic without trying too hard, which honestly feels rare these days. Plus, it sets the tone perfectly for the rest of the album. Like, bravo, Enisle. Just... bravo.
Then there’s Pinch Me If This Isn’t Real (Just Kidding, It’s Called Parhelion). Okay, okay, bad joke—I’ll stop. But seriously, this one hits different. It starts super minimal, just a few delicate notes hanging in space. Slowly, though, it builds into this lush, shimmering soundscape. There’s this moment around the halfway mark where everything clicks together, and suddenly you’re not just listening anymore—you’re floating. Or maybe falling. Either way, it’s beautiful chaos. If I had to pick a favorite, this would be it. No contest.
What’s wild about Capillary Waves is how unassuming it feels. None of the tracks scream for attention; instead, they kind of sidle up next to you, whisper sweet nothings, then leave before you realize what happened. And yet, hours later, you're still thinking about them. That’s the power of good ambient music, right? It doesn’t need to shout to stick.
At the end of the day, Capillary Waves reminds me of staring out a train window during golden hour—the world blurs together, light dances across surfaces, and you feel both connected to everything and totally alone. Weird flex, but here we are. Ambient albums like this don’t come along every day, and if you’re into soundscapes that tickle your soul rather than your feet, this one’s worth every second of your time.
Oh, and fun fact: Listening to this album somehow made me crave toast. Go figure.
